Pride and Punishment
by Superfreek
Summary: Usually after a week or so Dean would settle down and return to his usual cocky grinning self. But sometimes it didn't stop. Sometimes Sam had to make it stop. wincest


Dean slid himself roughly into the driver's seat of the Impala, scowl never leaving his face. Sam realised just how pissed off Dean was when he slammed the door. Sane Dean would never abuse his baby like that. He turned to Sam, murderous look on his face. Sam knew the look. An outside observer would think that Dean was angry, and yeah there was that, but Sam knew that look was more fear than anger. Of course Dean being Dean would never show fear.

"What the fuck was that." Dean growled. His look was fierce and cold. His jaw was set firm, lines protruding under his cheeks from his clenched teeth. His eyes were wild, staring so intently at Sam that he felt they would burn through him. Blood still trickled slightly from a gash just over his left eyebrow. His hair was tussled and his breath was heavy making his chest heave with every intake of air.

"What was what?" Sam said defiantly, knowing full well what his brother was referring to.

Dean's eyes went wide and his mouth opened slightly. His head cocked a bit to the side, jaw jutting forward in disbelief. For a brief second Sam thought that he was going to lunge across the car at him. After a few seconds Dean closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, he took a deep breath. His lips pursed together. He looked forward and clenched the steering wheel, knuckles already turning white. Dean spoke slowly through clenched teeth, forcing himself to keep control with every word. "Don't fuck with me Sam. You know exactly what I am talking about." He turned to Sam, eyes dancing in the fading light, warning Sam just how low his tolerance for bullshit was.

Sam let out a huff of air. "That was me saving your ass is what it was Dean." Dean's cold stare sent shivers down his spine, but he refused to back down and stared back at Dean with equal intensity.

"It was stupid Sam. You almost got yourself killed."

"So I'm supposed to just stand back and let you get killed. Is that it?" The tension hung in the air so thick you could almost see it. Sam could read Dean's expression although it never changed. He was trying to come up with an answer to that. The simple fact was that there was no answer. Dean would have done the exact same if situations were reversed and he knew it. That didn't mean he liked it though. Dean turned from Sam and started the car. He threw it into gear and slammed the Impala forward, throwing Sam back into his seat.

They drove in silence, Dean focusing on driving so intently that it was almost comical and Sam staring out the window. Sam tried to focus on the scenery, but try as he might his thoughts just kept coming back to Dean. He had been on edge for the last few weeks and it was only getting worse. It took almost nothing now to set him off. He spoke little and when he did his words were almost always angry. Sam recalled an incident a few days ago when Dean was almost thrown into a rage over a simple red light. Occurrences like that were becoming more and more frequent. It had to stop, for both of their sakes. Sam hadn't said anything so far. His older brother occasionally got like this and he knew better than to add fuel to the flame. Usually after a week or so Dean would settle down and return to his usual cocky grinning self. But sometimes it didn't stop.

Sometimes Sam had to make it stop.

Dean pulled into the parking spot in front of their motel room. He slammed the car into park and threw the door open. A second later the door closed behind him with a bang. Sam just sat in the passenger seat watching his brother walk to the motel room door, open it and slam it shut behind him. He never looked back at Sam.

Fuck. The word resounded through Sam's head like a mantra. Fuck fuck fuck. Dean wasn't going to pull himself out of this one. Not on his own. Sam opened the glove box and took out the hunting knife that was stashed in there for emergencies. He stuffed the knife down the back of his jeans. After making sure that the knife was secure he grabbed the door handle, then paused. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he must do. He let out a sharp breath and opened the door. The sun was almost set now but the night was still warm. Sam glanced up toward the sky as he walked, thankful for the brief distraction as his eyes took in the last remnants of colour that were splashed across the sky. He stopped in front of their motel room door. Thank God this was one of those places where each room was its own separate little building. Things could get bad enough without someone banging angrily on the walls, yelling for them to shut up. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Sam hated this. But he loved his brother so it had to be done. With one last deep breath Sam opened the door.

When he entered the room Dean was standing next to the bed ripping items out of his duffle bag in a ridiculously heated way. "Where the fuck is it! I know it was in here." He turned to Sam. "Have you been going through my stuff again? How many times have I told you to leave my shit alone!" Dean went back to rummaging through his bag all the time muttering to himself angrily. Sam couldn't make out most of it and he really didn't care to. Dean finally gave up on whatever he had been searching for, throwing his arms up in the air then running his hands roughly through his hair.

Here goes nothing Sam thought. "Fuck you Dean." His voice was low and even, in no way reflecting the harshness of the words he had spoken. He watched as Dean turned slowly to meet his gaze.

"Excuse me?" Dean once again had a murderous half crazed look on his face.

Sam swallowed and continued. "I said fuck you Dean. I knew you were an asshole but I didn't know you were deaf." No turning back now.

Dean just stared at him. Sam refused to turn away knowing that this was the moment in which the fight would be won or lost. He could not be the one to look away first. No matter what happened later, it would all come down to this. He held Dean's eyes.

After what seemed to be an eternity Dean turned away. He grabbed his keys and jacket. "I don't need this shit." He stormed past Sam without looking at him. He opened the motel room door, but before he got it open far enough for him to slip through Sam turned around, reaching above Dean's shoulder he slammed the door shut. Dean just stood there facing the door, jacket and keys still in his hands. Sam could almost feel the waves of energy that seemed to radiate off his brother. Dean turned slowly looking up at his brother who was only inches away from his face, hand still resting firmly on the door.

"Get out of my way Sam." His voice was low and hoarse. His eyes were wild and almost seemed to have a life of their own. Sam didn't miss the challenge that was hidden in those words.

"No." He didn't move. For a brief second he felt a pang of fear and doubt. Despite the fact that he was larger than Dean he knew that his brother could easily beat him if it ever came down to a true no holds barred fight. He knew he could hold his own in a tight spot. He was good, better than most, but Dean was a soldier through and through. Sam held no doubts about what his brother could do to him. He also knew that he never would.

Dean pocketed his keys almost casually, though Sam knew there was nothing casual about it. He threw the jacket to the side and looked up at Sam. He punched Sam in the jaw, then just stood there staring up at his brother, waiting for him to back off. No way was Sam backing off. His jaw ached but the punch was thrown with much less force than he knew Dean was capable of. At that moment he knew Dean would give in to him.

Sam hit Dean back.

Dean lifted his right arm in a half-hearted attempt to reciprocate the blow. Sam easily caught his wrist and threw him hard against the door, one arm pinning up Dean's wrist and his other spread across his brothers throat pinning him in place. "You're gonna give it to me Dean. You're gonna give it to me right now." He knew that he had already won, but Dean stared up at him in defiance to the last. Dean never let anything go without a fight. Sam jerked Dean hard, tightening his grip on his wrist and pushed his arm just a little harder into Dean's neck. "Give it to me Dean!" Dean stayed tense against him for just a moment, then Sam finally felt his brother slowly go limp under his grip. Dean tore away from Sam's eyes and bowed his head down as much as his brother's arm would permit. Sam held him there a little longer until he knew for sure that there was no more fight left in him.

Sam's stomach lurched. He hated this. Hated doing this. Hated seeing his brother like this. God knows why Dean needed this, it only mattered that he did. Dean had made so many sacrifices for him throughout his life. He never let himself be a child so that Sam could be. He had nurtured him in place of the mother that he had never known. Taught him in place of a father who was almost never there. Dean had been his surrogate parent, his brother and protector, his best friend and eventually his lover. Sam loved Dean in every way that it was possible for one to love. This wasn't about himself or how he felt. This was about Dean.

Sam slowly relaxed and removed his arm from Dean's neck and released his wrist. Dean let his arm fall to his side never looking at his brother. Sam cupped Dean's face in his hands and kissed him softly. "You understand why." It came out tenderly, half whispered against his brother's lips. It was more a statement than a question, but Dean nodded meekly in response. "Good."

"Sam..." It was so low that Sam could barely hear him. It tore at his heart to see his brother so weak and unguarded. All Sam wanted to do was hold him and kiss him softly, uttering words of comfort. But that wasn't what Dean needed. Sam removed his hands from his partner's face. And then Sam slapped his brother. Hard. He reached up with his right hand grabbing Dean's hair, roughly banging his head back against the door. He took Deans face in the other, squeezing hard, lifting his chin so their eyes would meet.

"Don't speak." The words were cold, uncharacteristic of the man who had spoken them. "Unless I tell you. Understand." Dean said nothing, did nothing; he just stared at Sam who watched a dark stain seep into his brother's cheek where he had struck him. Sam's outward behavior completely contradicted the thoughts in his head. However, he continued "Look at you. You'll do anything you're told won't you." He removed his hand from Dean's chin and leaned down, taking his lips. He kissed him rough and hard. Sam felt his brother hardening against him as he ground into his hips. He reached down and roughly stroked him through his jeans. "God you're such a slut."

Sam broke away and took several steps back. Dean still stood leaning on the door, shoulders slumped forward. His eyes were locked on Sam, asking, pleading, needing. Sam once again had to force himself not to go to him. God he hated himself for doing this, he wondered why Dean didn't. "Strip." he commanded.

Dean complied without hesitation. He removed his white checkered flannel shirt and threw it to the floor. Next he took off his t-shirt revealing years of faded scars. He never took his eyes off Sam. He then kicked off his boots and leaned down to remove his socks. As he reached down to undo his belt Sam felt himself stir. The sight of Dean slowly stripping for him, the intense need in his brothers eyes, the absolute control that he gave up to him. God it was so hot! Sam stood there staring at his brother as Dean slowly removed his jeans. He told himself that he shouldn't be enjoying this but the bulge in his jeans proved that he did. As Dean kicked his jeans aside and stood completely naked before him Sam could see that in his own sick way, Dean was enjoying this too.

"On your knees." Sam fought to keep his voice from trembling. What the fuck was wrong with him? Every inner voice of sanity told him that he should not be even remotely turned on by this. He knew that this was Dean's way of punishing himself for everything in his life and about himself that he considered wrong. Which was just about everything. But at the same time Sam also understood the amount of trust that Dean gave him by allowing him to do this.

Only him.

Sam had to steady himself as he watched his older brother fall to his knees.

Sam stepped forward until he was standing right in front of the kneeling form. He could feel Dean's breath even through his jeans. He grabbed the back of Dean's head, forcing it forward as he thrust out his hips and ground his hardness into Dean's face. "You should see yourself" he spoke as he continued rubbing. "The great Dean Winchester on his knees practically begging to suck my cock." He hated the harshness of his words. He hated seeing his brother reduced to this, on his knees letting himself be punished for things that weren't even wrong.

Most of all he hated himself for loving it.

"Undo my pants" he ordered. Sam knew that it was a strange request, after all given the situation it was the next obvious step. He also knew that Dean wouldn't do _anything _unless he was told. God that turned him on in ways that he didn't want to admit. Dean obeyed, undoing his jeans and tugging them slightly down until Sam's hard cock sprung free. He then stared up at his younger brother with pleading eyes awaiting his next task. Holy fucking hell! How it was possible to look so dirty and debauched while radiating such broken innocence! Sam allowed himself to stare down at his brother for just a moment, savouring that look. He then rubbed his hard member across Dean's face taunting him. "You want this? You want my cock down your throat?"

"Yes" came a timid voice from below.

Sam repositioned his hips so that the head of his gleaming shaft pressed against Dean's lips. "Suck me" he growled forcing himself into Dean's mouth. He watched intently as Dean opened to accommodate him. Holy hell was that hot! He wasn't sure which he enjoyed more, the feel of his brother's hot needy mouth around him or the sight of him hungrily devouring his swollen cock. Sam thrust forward, forcing himself hard down Dean's throat. He felt Dean flinch and he knew that it must have hurt. Good. Dean needed this to hurt.

Sam had to focus on his objective. It would be so easy to lose himself in those sweet pouty lips. "God I love to watch myself fuck your mouth." He thrust hard to emphasize his point."You'll do anything to feel needed won't you Dean?" He could feel his brother's tongue rolling around the head of his dick as he bobbed furiously up and down. My god Dean could suck a mean cock. "You're so afraid of being alone that you let you'll baby brother cum down your throat." Dean quickened his pace and Sam felt the familiar tingle starting to rise from his balls.

"Stop." Dean immediately complied. He let Sam's hardness fall away from his lips and once again stared up at his brother who gently rubbed his hands through his hair. Sam felt himself getting lost in Dean's beautiful green eyes. They spoke to him in volumes, things that he would never say aloud. They spoke of love and belonging, of lust and need. They told him of his fears and doubts, his dreams and his failures. Sam saw everything in his brothers eyes, but nothing touched him more than the endless pain he saw swimming in those pools of green. It seemed so unfair that the only thing he could give Dean to ease his fear and doubt was more pain.

Sam reached out and slapped Dean across his face. The sound of the impact resonated in the room with a harsh crack. Sam thought that it was the sound of his heart breaking. "Get up." Dean stood up. Sam removed his jacket. He was suddenly struck by the stark contrast of Dean's nakedness when he was still fully dressed. He threw his jacket aside and then grabbed Dean's shoulders, again pushing him roughly into the door. Sam then reached behind him and pulled out the knife that he had stashed in his jeans, bringing it up to his brothers face. The tip of the knife pressed down hard enough to make an indentation on Dean's cheek, but not draw blood. Dean never flinched, never even looked at the knife, his eyes were focused solely on Sam.

"Is this what you want Dean. You truly are fucked up do you know that?" Sam twisted the knife in his hand instinctively knowing how much pressure to put on the blade without breaking the skin. "Tell me Dean. Tell me what you want." Sam mentally prepared himself for Dean's answer.

"Cut me."

Fuck! Sam's stomach lurched with mixed emotions and he felt his previous arousal fading. He knew what Dean's response would be, it was the same as it always was, but it never got any easier to hear. He didn't want to hurt Dean but it was the only way to help him and he _did _want to help, so that meant hurting him. Fuck! It drove Sam crazy. A twisted part of himself enjoyed Dean's submissiveness, but he didn't like to hurt him

Sam slowly traced a path down Dean's cheek with the dull edge of the blade, down his neck to just below his Adams apple. He brushed aside Dean's necklace and held it away from the middle of his brother's chest where it always hung. The knife traced down and old pink scar in the middle of his partner's chest. Sam felt himself grow cold at the sight of it; he knew exactly how it got there.

And who put it there.

As the knife traced back up the firm line Sam twisted the knife. When the tip reached the top of the scar Sam pushed down, feeling the knife break through the skin. The cut wasn't deep but he could already see pools of crimson beading up through the line that he had made.

"Harder. Make it hurt."

Sam wasn't sure which scared him more, his brother's words or the calmness in which he had spoken them.

Sam obliged, retracing the cut he just made with added pressure. He was careful not to cut too deep that it would require stitches. Dean wouldn't care but he did. Dean's eyes never left Sam. His expression never changed. He didn't flinch and he never made a sound. A chill ran down Sam's spine. He was sure that he could bring the knife up and cut his brother's throat and Dean wouldn't make a move to stop him. Sam leaned down and ran his tongue up the new line of hot liquid. He then took Dean's face in his hands, kissing him passionately. Their tongues danced together in their embrace tasting each other. Tasting blood. The sensation was strangely peaceful. It was as if they were reaffirming the sacrament of their bond, a silent oath that was spoken through blood.

Sam forced himself away from his brother's lips, pressing their foreheads together. His eyes fell upon the bronze medallion that now sat in a pool of blood over his brother's heart. Sam always thought of it as a physical symbol of Dean's devotion. It hurt Sam to see it bloodied. With a deep breath he tore his eyes away. He grabbed his brother and flung him around throwing him roughly on the bed. Dean landed on his back, head hitting the metal headboard with a loud thud. Sam inwardly winced at the sound. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

Dean laid on the bed in silence intently watching Sam slowly remove his clothes. When he finished undressing he walked slowly to the bed and crawled on top of his brother. He was acutely aware of the hardness below him. Sam felt himself starting to grow hard again at the sight of Dean underneath him. He grabbed Dean's wrists and brought them above his head. He maneuvered his brother's hands so that they were gripping the bars of the headboard and leaned down to his ear. "Don't let go."

Sam then reached over to grab the small bottle from the nightstand when he was surprised to hear his brother speak.

"No" he said softly. "Just you. Make it hurt."

Sam's heart raced. He wanted to ignore his brother but he knew he couldn't. He wondered for a moment who was actually in control here. He didn't think it was him. Sam abandoned his quest for the small tube and grabbed his brother's legs, pushing them up until they were almost touching his bloody chest. He positioned his head in the middle of Dean's ass and then paused. He knew this was going to hurt. He wanted to be sure that this was what he wanted. Dean's eyes were closed but he nodded his head to Sam, as if reading his mind.

Sam thrust inside Dean hard. He felt a moment of pain as the tight hot flesh gripped his cock. He couldn't imagine how it must feel for Dean. He paused, wanting to give his partner time to adjust from the sudden intrusion, but Dean bucked his hips up demanding more. Dean's eyes were still closed and his face was tight in an expression of pain but his dick was rock hard with need. Sam began to move his hips, pumping harder with each thrust. He was torn between the burning desire in his body that grew with every stroke and the screaming in his mind that hated himself for what he was doing.

"Harder." Dean demanded.

Sam's mind wondered when it was exactly that he had lost control of the situation, but his body didn't care. He thrust harder, burying himself to the hilt, then pulled out only to slam into his brother again. Dean's hands still gripped the headboard. His head was thrown back exposing his neck and his breath was ragged and forced. The frantic movement aggravated the wound on his chest and blood spilled down his sides, seeping into the sheets, but he never made a sound. The sight drove Sam crazy, making him pump impossibly harder into Dean. He shifted his hips and the new angle allowed the tip of Sam's huge cock to hit Dean's sweet spot. Dean gasped audibly. It was the first sound he had made other than his whispered demands.

Sam knew Dean was close. He bucked and moaned uncontrollably under him, knuckles turning white as he gripped the bars of the headboard tighter. "Oh God Sammy please..." Dean pleaded, not even knowing that he said it out loud.

Sam continued his punishing pace, his cock hitting that same sensitive spot with every thrust. He could feel his own climax approaching and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Not yet. Not like this.

"Oh. God. Sammy. Saammmmmyyy..." His brother's name escaped his lips in a throaty growl as he arched his back and came furiously, shooting hot splashes of come all over his chest. Sweat glistened on his brow and his chest heaved as the intensity of his orgasm washed over him.

Sam stilled his hips but did not remove himself from Dean. He reached up to Dean's chest, feeling it heave under him as he slowly moved his hands in circles rubbing, mixing Dean's sweat and blood with his still warm seed.

"Thank you Sammy." Dean managed through great gasps of air. "Thank You." He opened his eyes and looked at Sam. When their eyes met Dean felt his stomach jump up into his throat. He saw eyes that were wide with lust and pain and brimming with unshed tears. He knew what his brother had just done for him and now he would give him what _he_ needed.

Dean let go of the bed rails and slowly sat up until their chests touched. He gently cupped Sam's face and pulled him down in a tender kiss. He kissed him long and slow, exploring every inch of his brother's sweet mouth. When he felt a tear fall on his cheek he pulled away and softly wiped Sam's face. He pulled Sam down so his head rested on his shoulder and began to gently rock, feeling Sam inside him. "I love you Sammy." he whispered in his ear as he slowly rode his brother's length.

"Dean" Sam uttered as he quickened his pace."Oh God" He held his brother tight against him and he felt his own release approach. "Oh God... can''t...gonna...Dean..."

"Let go Sam, come inside me"

Sam rocked harder letting the intensity grip him. "Fuck...yeah... Dean...ohfuckdeangraffraaa..." His words were lost as he came in frantic waves shooting his seed deep into his brother. They fell back onto the bed panting and gasping. Nothing else mattered. At that moment there were no ghosts or demons or evil forces trying to tear them apart. There was no pain, no doubt, just each other.

It was beautiful.

It was perfect.


End file.
